


More Than Just a Dream

by samisnotonline



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Coffee Shops, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Abandonment, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Magic-Users, Making Out, Nightmares, Slow Burn, They're both oblivious, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samisnotonline/pseuds/samisnotonline
Summary: Clay comes from a family that can do magic. Everyone in his family is born with a specific magical power unique to them.That is, everyone except him.Clay finds himself lost in between the magic and human worlds, not entirely sure which world he fits into better, having been raised by practically both of them. What he does know is that he's slowly falling for his childhood best friend, a human, who has no idea that magic exists.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 425





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Note: please for the love of god DON’T ship real people unless they’re explicitly stated that they’re okay with it. Don’t make your favorite content creators uncomfortable simply for your entertainment, be a decent human being.

It was a painfully uneventful workday for George. It was raining heavily outside, and his friends Clay and Nick were the only ones in the shop. Nick mainly because the WiFi that was offered was free, Clay seemed to only care about distracting poor George from doing his job. Thankfully, it was cold and rainy outside. Not a single customer had come inside in the last thirty minutes. Any smart person would know to stay home in this kind of weather.

Both George and Clay had been mid-conversation when a blinding flash of white light, followed by possibly the deepest rumble of thunder George had ever heard erupted from what seemed like nowhere. It had only been slightly cloudy up until a couple of minutes ago, the weather had shown no signs of incoming storms, especially not one of this size.

All of the lights inside of the coffee house flickered momentarily, before dying out completely.

“Well, that’s not the best.”

“No shit. How the hell am I supposed to do my job now?”

Clay laughed. “You don’t. Here, unplug everything that’s connected to some sort of outlet. It’s dangerous to keep that kind of stuff in when there’s a thunderstorm this big.”

George frowned. “But what about-”

“The weather outside is dangerous, I don’t think you’ll be getting any more customers today. Just close up shop early, unplug anything hazardous, and we can all walk back to my and Nick’s apartment. It’s just across the street, and I don’t want you walking all the way down to your house in this kind of weather.”

But what if his boss- nope, George knew it was the safest option, and agreed. He began to unplug all of the appliances while Clay told Nick (who had had his headphones in the entire time and barely noticed a thing) that they were all going to be headed back to the apartment. It was only then that Nick realized the power had gone out.

“Woah, what the fuck.”

“How the hell do you manage to not notice something like that?”

Nick laughs. “I don’t know, I was focused! I need to get this paper in by tomorrow-”

“Which is entirely your fault, might I add.” Clay punched him on the shoulder playfully. “We had all of the last two weeks to complete it, I even offered to help you-”

“I had other assignments!”

“Suuure.”

Soon enough, everyone was packed and ready to go. George had made his way to the door when he realized.

“Um, does anyone have an umbrella?”

Both Nick and Clay shook their heads.

“It’s only just across the street,” Nick pointed out. “We shouldn’t get too wet.”

George shrugged, not looking fully convinced but agreed nonetheless. “Alright, we run on the count of three?”

“Make sure no cars are coming first.”

George chuckled. “Yeah, that too.”

They looked for cars from inside the glass doors of the shop. When they were sure that all the nearby cars had been stopped at red lights, they booked it out and into the street. Nick screamed some kind of broken war cry, his voice cracking with laughter.

“Nick, what the hell,” Clay wheezed. “you’re so freaking weird.”

“Shut it, tea kettle.”

“Tea kettle-!”

By the time they made it to the other side, they were all a giggling, drenched mess. Well, maybe not George. George groaned when he noticed the state his clothes were in.

“What the hell am I supposed to change into? These are the only clothes I’ve got with me, I’m just gonna track water all over your guys’ place.”

Nick shrugged. “Y’know, Clay probably has something you could borrow.”

Clay had this annoyed, maybe slightly embarrassed look on his face, to which he gave Nick the  _ I’m-gonna-fucking-kill-you-later _ look.

“Er- yeah. I’ve got a couple of spare hoodies you can pick from. They’re probably bigger than you though, so-”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” George felt his face heating up. He obviously couldn’t see his reflection, but if he were to guess, his face was bright red. If Nick or Clay noticed, they certainly didn’t say anything.

“Let’s keep going,” Clay suggested, the tension only easing up slightly.

Their apartment was only a couple of buildings down the line. George was still amazed that both Nick and Clay’s parents had allowed them to get their own place, despite the fact that they’d only just turned 18. From what he’d heard, it had something to do with the private school the two of them attended.

Clay and Nick never talked about their school life, at least not while George was around. Why they kept it so private was anybody’s guess, but George respected them and their personal lives, he never pushed either of them for answers.

He’d only ever visited their apartment on a couple of occasions and never stayed for longer than necessary. Sometimes when the two were up late studying, and George would finish working some excruciatingly late shift, he’d sometimes visit them and bring over some much-needed caffeine. They’d let George sleep on the couch, knowing it was far too late for him to be walking home alone. The couch wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, but he appreciated the gesture enough to stay.

There were only a couple of times when he’d been invited over simply for the purpose of hanging out. Clay admitted that their school didn’t leave them much room for free time. George had known him almost all his life, and it saddened him to know that as time went on they were spending less and less time with each other as they both grew older. George was certain it upset Clay too, which is probably why most days he came over to the coffee lab simply to be around him, even if the two rarely did speak.

The moment they stepped into Clay’s dry, warm apartment, he immediately rushes to his room to retrieve dry clothes for both him and George.

“Wow, you’re helping George out and not me? Shows how much you care about our friendship,” Nick teased.

“Go get your own clothes, dickhead,” Clay retorted, tossing George a blue hoodie, black sweatpants, and a pair of clean socks. “Just hand me your wet clothes once you’ve changed and I’ll dry them overnight,” he added, nodding to George.

“Can’t believe you’d help your boyfriend over me,” Nick muttered, quiet enough that only Clay can hear.

“He’s not- whatever you say, dude.”

-

About an hour passed, and the three of them were eating deeply mediocre frozen pizza while watching equally mediocre Netflix films. Even though he was spending the night watching movies with his two best friends, George still felt a little guilty about being there. He felt as though he were intruding on something private, though he didn’t know exactly why. Nothing about Nick and Clay’s apartment felt particularly closeted, it was a casual, maybe somewhat trashed looking space with homey figurines and photographs scattered across the area. There was some inexplicable energy that made him feel like he just wasn’t supposed to be there. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least.

“George, are you okay? You look pale.”

George realizes his name’s been called, and Clay’s looking down at him with this worried look on his face. 

“What? I’m always pale.”

“No dude, you’re like, ghostly pale,” Nick chimes in. “Are you gonna throw up?”

“No, I’m fi-” He was most certainly not fine. At that moment, George felt as though something sharp was jabbing him in the stomach. He  _ did _ feel like throwing up.

“Do you want anything to drink? I’m pretty sure we’ve got ginger ale somewhere at the back of the pantry-”

George shook his head. “It’s alright, I think I just need to sleep off-” he winced again. “-whatever this is.”

“Maybe we should go to bed early then,” Clay suggested. “George, you take my bed. I don’t want you sleeping on the couch when you’re like this.”

There was a slight snigger from Nick, Clay hoped that George hadn’t heard it.

He hesitated. That feeling of intrusion- it was stronger than ever. “Are you sure? I don’t want to steal your bed-”

“George, just take the bed. I’m sorry, but- look at you! I can’t let you sleep on the couch.”

“I’m really that pathetic?”

“Yeah. Just go, I’ll be fine.”

George looked unsure but agreed nonetheless. Some mixture of exhaustion and knowing Clay was too stubborn a bastard gave him little to no energy to fight back.

“Just text my mum that she might need to pick me up tomorrow morning? I don’t think I’ll feel like walking all the way back.”

“Of course. Now go and get some sleep, don’t want to wake up looking like that tomorrow morning.” Clay ruffled the shorter boy’s hair, to which he scrunched his nose up in response.

“You’re too kind.”

-

Clay couldn’t sleep.

For one, he was worried about George. The sickness seemed to come out of nowhere. 

Had he gotten sick in the rain? No, his symptoms weren’t anywhere close to that of a cold. Nausea and stomach pains were more flu-like than anything.

“You’re still up?”

Nick’s voice surprised him. “Yeah. This couch sucks, man.”

His roommate raised an eyebrow, not believing that was the only reason for his lack of sleep. Clay gave him a warning look in response. Nick had a way of getting information out of him.

“I’m worried for George,” he finally admitted. “The illness? It seemed to come out of nowhere.”

“Well, yeah. That’s not surprising. I’m surprised this is the first time it’s happened- he’s been here many times before..”

Clay glanced up at Nick, a look of confusion on his face. “Um, what? I don’t follow.”

“Humans aren’t supposed to enter magic areas. They get overwhelmed by all the energies and confusing vibes.”

_ Wait. _

“But this isn’t a ‘magic area’. This is our apartment.”

Nick laughed in disbelief. “Dude. This whole apartment building is full of people who practice magic. That alone is enough to make an area dangerous for humans to be around.” He paused. “Surely you must’ve realized that?”

“Well- yes. I mean, no. That sounds vaguely familiar, so I guess it slipped my mind. Like you said- George has never been affected- at least not this severely- ever in his life.”

“You need to be more careful. You don’t want to end up hurting him, and you definitely don’t want him finding out about your magic abilities on accident.”

“But- I’m a human. How come I’m not affected by the energy, but he is?”

“Probably because you grew up surrounded by it? I dunno man. Why do you think George looks so afraid every time he comes into our apartment? Some part of him knows he’s not supposed to be here. It’s all part of the spell-workings.”

“But I’m not-”

Nick sighed. “Look man, this is a  _ you _ problem, not a  _ me _ problem. If you’re so worried, just stop inviting George over.”

“I just don’t understand.”

Nick shrugged, already making his way back to his bedroom.

“You will.”

-

Clay hated Nick.

Okay, not really. But some days their friendship felt more tedious than others.

The two of them had grown up together. Both of them had come from separate magic families and had so far done all of their schoolings together. When he was 4 years old, Nick discovered that just by looking at a person, he instantly saw and understood their entire future. All of it, in full detail from start to finish.

And from what he’d gathered, there was nothing he could do to change any of the outcomes he saw. He was terrified as a child, realizing how much power he held. He was still terrified, he never liked the flashes of visions and waves of emotion he received every time he made eye contact with a stranger. 

The only person whose future he couldn’t read was his own.

As a child, Nick felt guilty every time he read someone something about their future. Why? It wasn’t his place to tell them those things. They hadn’t happened yet, what was the point in living if you already knew what was going to happen?

After a while of this, he made a promise to himself that he’d never spoil someone’s future for them ever again, no matter how many times they asked.

Clay asked a lot when they were kids. He’d ask if he really did have powers, or if maybe the quiet kid from their class would ever mind being friends with him. If the girl he ended up marrying was pretty, et cetera et cetera. Nick was wise beyond his years having filled his mind with other people’s life stories and experiences. He never once let a detail slip or let Clay’s begging get the best of him. Eventually, he stopped, both out of acceptance that he’d never get an answer plus the realization that he didn’t even  _ want _ an answer.

Years had passed, and Clay still hadn’t found out what his powers were. It was at this point that he simply accepted that he had none, he was the black sheep of his family. He was still required to attend magic school, teachers still had their hopes up and would refer to him as a “late bloomer.”

_ Yeah, right. _

The only thing Clay found he was impressively good at was his ability to lucid dream. He’d learned how to at the young age of six, and he’d never had a regular dream since. It was fun, a way for him to escape the harsh reality that was his magic life and find peace in whatever fantasies he decided to indulge himself in that night.

His teachers, however, weren’t so convinced that his ability to lucid dream was all that natural. Nobody learned skills like that so quickly, let alone at six years old. Whether it truly was his power or the gateway to obtaining it, they were determined to observe his dreaming abilities. Clay found it absolutely obnoxious.

So what if he could lucid dream? Humans could lucid dream. The ability most certainly didn’t make him magical. The only reason he never denied the possibility was that he knew what happened to humans who've been discovered attending school meant for magic folk. They were required to have all of their memories relating to magic wiped clean of their mind, and Clay most certainly didn’t want to forget about Nick, magic, or his family.

Clay often found himself lost in between the magic and human worlds, not entirely sure which one he fit into better.

He wasn’t entirely sure when or if he’d ever find an answer to that question.

-

George’s mom picked him up early the next morning, promising that he’d be taken care of and given the day off. Clay still felt guilty knowing the whole situation was his fault, and that he’d probably feel a hundred times better the minute he left.

“It’s alright, you didn’t know.” Nick read his thoughts. 

_ You know, just psychic things. _

“You didn’t sound so sympathetic last night,” Clay teased in reply.

“Yeah, that’s cause it was past midnight and I’m already behind on sleep. I think I’m allowed to be a little crabby-”

“Hey man, you’re the one that came out to check up on me!”

“I was going to the kitchen to get water, but your  _ stupidity _ distracted me.”

“My stupidity-!”

-

Magic school was the fucking worst.

For the most part, it was the exact same as any other public school (which he’d attended all the way up until his freshman year of high school, which is when he and every other  _ “gifted kid” _ made the switch). The main difference between the two was that they were forced to learn practically double the usual subjects. Everyone was given at least one class period to work with a personal trainer on mastering their own magic ability. Other classes included the history of magic, reading magic texts, and the study of how magic and science were “related” (they really weren’t, literally nothing in the class made sense to him). All of that plus the regularly required classes to graduate meant that school days were long and tedious. 

There were days when that alone was almost enough for Clay to request having his memory wiped and to be sent to a regular, less stressful schooling experience.

But that meant losing practically everything, so of course, he didn’t.

Magic training, in Clay’s book, was singlehandedly the worst subject to possibly exist (thank god it was his last for the day). For the most part, their sessions were just his trainer Mrs. Reynolds, an old woman whose voice sounded about three cigarettes away from death, telling him to meditate for forty minutes a day. Something about unlocking his true potential, strengthening his ability to lucid dream, or something along those lines. None of it made sense. Not to mention Clay was scared to tell her that none of her training actually worked, he was afraid that she might-

The bell rang. Clay was ready to get the hell out of Mrs. Reynolds’ classroom, but her hand on his shoulder stopped him from leaving.

“I know you’re doubtful in your abilities,” she began in her low, gravelly voice. “But I promise you, there is nothing ordinary about you. We will get there together, you and me, and figure out what’s stopping you from using your powers.”

And for a moment, he wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that he  _ was _ special, that maybe he was just a late bloomer like everyone said.

He faked a smile and thanked her for today’s “lesson.” He was ready to get the hell out of both the classroom and school in general.

Clay was quick to pick Nick out from the crowd. He waved, trying to get the younger guy’s attention. No such luck. Oh well, Clay had no real better option than to startle him from behind (he most definitely had better options).

Springing upon him with a scream, Nick didn’t react in the slightest. He laughed at his friend’s attempt to startle him, before shoving him off.

“Dumbass. I knew you were gonna do that. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I just-” he paused. The idea of making another stop at the coffee shop was enticing, he wanted to check and make sure that George was well again. “Do you think George is feeling any better? Maybe he’ll be at work today.”

Nick shrugged. “I doubt it. But if you’re so worried you could just visit him yourself. I’m sure he’d appreciate it, coming from  _ you _ .”

Clay snorted. “Shut up, you’re making it sound as though he’s my  _ boyfriend _ or something.”

-

_ Being a psychic wasn’t all it was hyped up to be. _

Sometimes Nick answered Clay’s questions before he even voiced them out loud because he already knew what he was going to say, causing him to huff in annoyance anytime he got cut off.

Whenever they watched movies together, Nick looked bored and uninterested. He’d already seen the ending play in someone else’s head beforehand.

Sure, Nick couldn’t see his own future. That was the main limitation of his powers. But as long as he was a part of somebody else’s future, it didn’t really matter. Nick had already figured out most of his future anyway, right up to the date that he died.

Nick wished so,  _ so _ badly that he didn’t have the powers that he did. That he could just swap them out for somebody else’s. They didn’t make him feel strong, or important in any way. They just made him feel scared.

Every time Clay whined to him about his lack of powers. Every time he complained about George  _ probably _ not liking him back. Holding back the urge to scream “He does like you, you idiot!” or “You do have powers, you just haven’t experienced them fully!” just felt impossible some days. 

His friend was an idiot, and there was nothing he could do about it.

-

dreamwastaken

Hey dude, are you feeling any better? :(

georgenotfound

yeah, a lot better tbh. my mum’s worried that it’s the flu tho, and she doesn’t want me seeing anyone over the weekend

Clay’s heart sunk. There went any plans he might have made to visit George over the next couple of days. 

dreamwastaken

Oh, that sucks. Why’s she keeping you in if you’re already feeling better?

georgenotfound

probably scared that it’s gonna come back?

or that i’m asymptomatic and could end up spreading it without realizing it

dreamwastaken

Damn, I was planning on stopping by with some get-well-soon snacks lmao.

georgenotfound

snacks? 

i would literally do anything for a bag of potato crisps rn, you have no idea

what if i let you sneak in at some point tonight in an attempt to deliver me some much-needed junk food

and to visit ofc, i’m lonely up here

Clay’s heart did a flip when he thought about meeting up with George in secret. George was not a rebellious kid, so this kind of idea coming from him was an entirely new concept to Clay.

dreamwastaken

Lmao hell yeah, what time do you want me to come over? I wanna get there sometime when we have at least a little bit of time to hang out before one of your parents get up

georgenotfound:

wait ur actually down? i was joking but that actually sounds awesome

maybe head over at 12 so you’ll be here by 1 at the latest?

dreamwastaken

Okay cool. So besides potato chips, what kinds of snacks do you like?

-

By the time he was done shopping, he’d picked out a decent assortment of snacks and drinks that seemed as if they’d be good on a sensitive stomach. A couple of bottles of Gatorade, a can of iced herbal tea, some instant noodle cups (nothing spicy of course), the previously mentioned bag of chips ( _ they were  _ chips _ , not crisps, _ he thought to himself.), and a thing of peppermints to hopefully calm down any remaining nausea of George’s.

It was just after 10 at the time Clay had finished shopping. He still had another two hours before he was to visit George. He made his way back home, texting George for the time being.

dreamwastaken

Snacks have been secured

georgenotfound

oo what’d you get?

dreamwastaken

It’s a surprise :) made sure that everything was safe to eat on an upset stomach too, in case your nausea comes back

georgenotfound

what did i do to deserve u :(

Clay’s chest somersaulted.

\- 

A continuous thump came from outside George’s window. He jumped at the sudden noise, only to remember that it was most likely Clay here to drop off snacks.

“You know,” George started, unlocking and opening the latch for Clay to come inside, “you could've just texted me.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

“My parents could have heard you, I don’t want you getting in trouble for all of this.”

“But I wasn’t caught. And I don’t hear them getting up, do you?”

George rolls his eyes. “You’re too impulsive for your own good, you know that?”

“Oh, Nick tells me all the time.” Clay laughs. “You’d think he had better things to do than just lecture me all day long.”

They’re laughing for a moment when Clay stops abruptly, looking down at George. He notices that he’s staring at his shirt…?

Oh.

_ Oh. _

He was still wearing the same hoodie that Clay had let him borrow the night before.

Clay still hadn’t given him his clothes back yet.

“I’m sorry, if you want, I can give it back to you now, I’ve got clean stuff over there in my-”

“No, keep it on.” he hesitated momentarily before adding, “It looks cute on you.”

Both George and Clay went red. George felt as though his cheeks were on fire, how could Clay say such things without meaning them like that?

_ Clay. _

Had just called him  _ cute _ . What was George supposed to do in that situation? Call him cute in return? Should he laugh? Or should he lean in and kiss him, like he’d imagined doing so many times before?

Instead, George remained quiet, feeling as though his jaw was glued shut.

Clay broke the silence. “So tell me, what bullshit went down in public school this week? I want all the details, Georgie.”

-

An hour passed, and the two of them had gotten through the big bag of potato chips and two Gatorades. It was nearing two o’clock, and the tension from earlier had long passed. While they were both a cheery, giggling mess, George looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion, as Clay busily cleaned up any food wrappers they’d left out in the open. He noticed his friend’s continuous jerky movements as he struggled to stay sitting upward.

“You know, you can go to sleep if you’re so tired. I should be leaving soon anyway.”

“Claaay, can’t you stay a little longer? My mum’s not letting me see anyone this weekend, think of how lonely I’ll be,” he whined, though only half-jokingly. “Please? Just stay?”

And with a pleading voice like that, how could Clay say no?

“Fine. But no more than an hour. I can’t risk your mom walking in and catching me on here.”

“You say that as if we’re doing something bad.”

“Oh, so breaking into your room at one in the morning to smuggle in snacks isn’t bad enough for you? Sorry, sorry, I’ll make sure to go for something illegal next time. What kind of drugs do you want me to bring?”

George snorted with laughter, but it quickly got consumed by a heavy yawn.

“Not tired my ass. Come on, let’s get your sleepy ass to bed.”

“But Clay-”

“No buts. You need your sleep, even if there isn’t any school tomorrow.”

“I just-” George froze mid-sentence. “I don’t think I can.”

Clay then noticed how nervous his friend looked. His eyes refused to meet his own, and he shuffled with his hands in anxiety.

“Hey there, George, is there something going on? Why don’t you want to-”

“Fuck.”

George looked small. Scared. Of what, Clay wasn’t certain until-

_ “I just can’t sleep, Clay.” _

Silence.

...

And then, it all came spilling out. While George was a relatively introverted person, he rarely cried. So for him to burst into tears and shaky breathless, Clay was taken for a surprise.

“I’ve been having these night terrors for- for I don’t know how many months now. They- they’re awful. The reason my schedule’s been so fucked up is that I’m scared to sleep. It’s nearly impossible for me to rest unless I’m literally on the verge of passing out. Please, Clay, I don’t want to go to sleep just yet.”

This was completely new information. No wonder George always looked so exhausted or drank literal cups of straight espresso every evening before his shifts. Or sent all of his texts and gaming invites at ungodly hours of the night.

“Nightmares?”

George only nodded in reply. 

“That’s… okay. Do you mind telling me what they’re about?”

Clay hadn't personally dealt with nightmares in over a decade. Ever since he discovered he could lucid dream, he never had to deal with one again.

“They’re about people that I care about. Getting hurt. Leaving me. Sometimes dying.” George’s voice cracked as tears streamed down his cheeks, broken cries choked in between his words.

“Woah- shit dude, do you need a hug?”

He didn’t get a verbal response. Instead, George practically threw himself at Clay, burying his face into the man’s sweater, dampening it with his tears.

Clay felt his own breathing hitch momentarily. He wrapped his arms around his friend tightly, rubbing comforting circles into his back as he cried. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright. I’m right here next to you, alright?”

And he knew he was running out of time. He had to leave soon- staying out this late was a bad idea for multiple reasons. But it didn’t feel right to leave his friend in the middle of- yeah. Leaving now would be an asshole move. He couldn’t just abandon his friend now, not when he had just opened up to him about something so personal. An idea struck Clay at that moment, hoping that maybe it would be enough to help George get through whatever it was exactly he was going through.

“Well, listen. It’s risky, but I can sleepover tonight. I’ll set an alarm on my phone for 5:30 AM, that way I can still get out of here before your parents wake up, and I’ll be here for you if any nightmares disturb you through the night.”

George swallowed. He looked doubtful at Clay’s plan. “That’s- I don’t want you to get in trouble, Clay. not for something dumb like this. And even if you did stay, where would you sleep?”

“Um,” Clay had  _ really _ been hoping that what he’d originally been thinking had already been implied, but apparently it hadn’t.

“I just- I thought that maybe I could sleep with you? Since well- I don’t know. Sleeping next to a warm body can be kind of comforting?”

Thank god it was dark in George’s room because Clay had gone beet red.  _ God _ , the words sounded even stupider coming out of his mouth. It was only silent for a couple of seconds, but to Clay, those seconds felt like literal hours. 

Sucking in a shaky breath, George replied.

“Okay.”

Clay paused. “Wait, you’re okay with it?”

George nodded. “I can’t sleep. Maybe your strategy will work. I mean, it’s worth a try, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I get that.” Clay hadn’t been expecting George to be so on board with the idea. Surely cuddling up with his best friend wouldn’t trigger any sort of emotional response inside of him. Not at all.

_ This is fine,  _ he thought.  _ Completely fine. _

-

One minute, he’s warm. He wasn’t asleep, but he could feel the warmth of George sleeping next to him.

It’s warm and comforting, Clay wished that he could stay next to him forever.

Of course, all good things come to an end. Because not even a second passed and he felt as though his  _ whole body’s been frozen solid.  _

He was lying down on something hard. Was it the floor? His body was so,  _ so _ cold, and he couldn’t  _ move or breathe _ .

Oh, and it was dark.

Very,  _ very _ dark.

_ How did I get here? _

He could hear movement coming from all around him. People talking in hushed tones, which annoyed him. Clay didn’t understand a word that any of them are saying.

“I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t see his face, but Clay instantly recognized the voice belonging to George.

_ For what? _ He wanted to ask. But his voice was dead. Any questions he attempted to voice out only hurt the back of this throat. There wasn’t anything he could do but lie and listen.

“You know, this whole thing could have easily been prevented. If only you’d been a little bit quicker.”

_ Nick?  _ What was he doing here?

Where were they? And more specifically, where was  _ Clay _ ? Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good. Nick sounded angry while George sounded two seconds away from breaking down.

“Clay’s gone, and your reluctance to do anything ended up costing his life.” Nick’s voice was cold. He sounded as though he was holding back tears.

_ Nick never cried.  _

“I tried, I really did-”

“Yeah? Well, your attempt sure as hell wasn’t enough.”

_ Was he dead? _ Why were they talking about him as though he weren’t alive anymore? The darkness-

Was he in a  _ coffin _ ?

The deathly cold. The inability to move. The sad, hushed voices from all around him.

This was a funeral.

Alarmed at the fact that somehow, he’d caught himself in the middle of a nightmare, he attempted to lucid dream his way out of it.

But his body was so  _ still. _ So  _ cold _ . Any attempt he made at an escape felt hopeless. Clay realized as a terrifying chill ran down his back, that he  _ couldn’t lucid dream. _

_ Oh god,  _ he couldn’t get out. He was completely stuck, lying dead at what he presumed to be his own funeral, listening to George’s insistent cries that whatever had happened wasn’t his fault.

All that talk about nightmares. It must have triggered Clay into having one himself. The real question was,  _ why? _

Why now, after eleven whole years completely nightmare free, was this the turning point?

“I just- I don’t know how it happened. One minute we were fine, the next-”

“Look. you wanna make excuses? Make excuses to your heart’s content. But don’t deny the fact that his death is on your hands.”

Clay wanted to scream. Scream that it wasn’t George’s fault, that it was all just a-

_...all just a dream. _

_ Wait. _

George had told him that his nightmares usually consisted of people he loved dying. Leaving him for inexplicable reasons. This scenario seemed a little too-

Clay couldn’t lucid dream because this wasn’t his  _ own _ dream.

It was  _ George’s _ .

Alarmed at the realization, his mind raced as he desperately tried to think up a way to get them out.

_ It’s okay, George, this isn’t real. _

_ Please, wake up. _

He wanted to scream. He wanted to reassure George that none of this was happening, that  _ if he just woke up everything would be alright. _

But he couldn’t, Clay was completely mute. He’d have to wait out the nightmare with George.

_ He hadn’t felt this powerless in years. _

-

_ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so- _

George woke up with a jump, his breathing ragged and his skin damp with sweat.  _ It was just a dream. _

_ Thank god. _

His shuffling around must have woken Clay. He looked up through a mess of scruffy hair and squinted eyes, locking his gaze with George’s.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“No, no, you’re fine.” he paused, then added, “did you have a nightmare?”

George nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it? It might help you feel better.”

He hesitated. He did, but he also didn’t. He didn’t like reliving those thoughts, but it simultaneously helped get them out of his mind.

“Okay. Just- give me a minute. I’m still trying to process… yeah.”

“It’s okay, take your time.”

“You  _ died _ , Clay. I was at your funeral, and…”

He swore that for a very, very brief second, Clay’s expression looked almost shocked. But it was back to normal by the time George blinked, so he was almost certain that he’d simply imagined it.

“Nick blamed me for your death. It was terrifying, Clay-”

“Hey, hey, look, I’m here right now, and I’m perfectly okay.”

“I thought you were gone, Clay.”

“But I’m not. Here-” he pulled George into his arms, burying his face in the shorter man’s fluffy brunet hair. George hugged back instantaneously, wrapping his arms around him so tightly Clay looked as though he might suffocate.

_ Oh. _

Then came George’s question, so quiet that he was almost certain Clay hadn’t heard it.

“Can we cuddle tonight?”

He had. “Of course. But not for too long, my alarm’s supposed to go off in an hour or two.”

George wasn’t listening. He buried his face into Clay’s chest, clinging to him as though he might slip out of grasp and disappear at any moment.

_ This man was gonna be the death of him. _

George must’ve fallen asleep quickly because he swore that only a couple of seconds had passed when he looked up again, but when he did it was light outside, and Clay was nowhere to be seen.

-

georgenotfound

did you make it home safe???

dreamwastaken

I’m still walking, I’m almost home. Are you feeling any better?

georgenotfound

still pretty freaking exhausted. i slept well for the time u were there tho, so thank u for that

dreamwastaken

Of course, maybe I’ll just have to start sleeping over regularly again :)

Clay made it home right at the same moment that Nick had just woken up. They stumbled into each other when Clay entered the kitchen, a determined look on his face.

“Nick, you’re not gonna believe what happened last night.”

“Actually, I’ve got a pretty good hunch,” Nick joked. “But go on, tell me anyway.”

“So I’m 99% sure that I do have powers, because last night when I was over at George’s, I-”

“You projected yourself into his dream, congratulations.” Nick finished the sentence for him, which Clay then glares at him for. “Thank god you finally figured it out, you’ve got no idea how long that’s been killing me for. Yes, Clay, you  _ do _ have powers, and your teachers weren’t entirely wrong for thinking that lucid dreaming had something to do with-”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m oblivious to literally everything.” Clay laughed.

“I’m just messing with you. Really, man. I’m proud of you.”

“I can’t believe you just knew this whole time. How the hell do you keep a secret like that in for so long?”

Nick shrugs. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you anything about your future. And believe me, there were times I wanted to smack you across the face and tell you that you had powers, you stupid, stubborn bastard-”

“Okay, okay, I get it. We have established the fact that I’m a literal dumbass.”

“Nah, you’re not a dumbass. You’re just not a psychic.”

-

The weekend went by fast. All of a sudden it was Monday, meaning time for Clay to reveal the big news to his teachers.

He was nervous. What would they say? Would they laugh and tell him “I told you so”? Or would nothing change? His teachers’ assumptions about his powers hadn’t been that far off.

Turns out, he had nothing to be nervous about. Most of his teachers were excited for him and suggested he take extra class periods with Mrs. Reynolds to really train his abilities.

At that point, he was absolutely sure he wasn’t ordinary like he originally thought, so the offer didn’t sound half bad. He agreed to take the history of magic off tomorrow in exchange for extra one on one training.

When he got outside, Nick was already waiting for him.

“How’d it go?”

“I think you already know.”

Nick shoved his friend playfully. They were sitting on the stairs leading outside of the school building. They weren’t in a hurry to move anywhere, so they took the time to reflect on their school days. 

“Well, yeah, but I wanna hear it anyway.”

“It went good, then” Clay smiled. “All my teachers were supportive, and told me I could skip a class every now and then for extra practice time.”

“Yeah? That’s great, dude!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He paused. “It’s just… now that I know for sure that I have powers, I’m gonna have to stay away from George, aren’t I?”

Nick frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“If I’m practicing magic regularly, wouldn’t my magic energy just make him sick to be around? I don’t want to hurt him, and-”

“Clay. You’ve already  _ been _ practicing magic regularly for years now. Your ability to lucid dream? It’s not normal. People without magic spend years trying to master that, you just ‘figured it out’ when you were 7 years old? That’s magic.”

“But aren’t we supposed to distance ourselves from the human world as much as possible?”

Nick shrugged. “You never let that ‘rule’ stop you before. What’s so different about it now that you know you have powers?”

“I-” Clay paused, trying to find the right words to describe whatever the hell it was he was feeling.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re nervous, and that’s perfectly okay. Finding out you have supernatural powers is scary, I would know. But you have to remember that George is  _ my _ friend too, and I’ve known about my abilities for about as long as I can remember. You can’t let this come in between you and George’s relationship. He’s your friend, you’re supposed to-”

“Nick, no spoilers!”

Nick grinned. “Oops. Guess that bit just slipped.”


	2. Wet Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So maybe Clay does have powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: please for the love of god DON’T ship real people unless they’re explicitly stated that they’re okay with it. Don’t make your favorite content creators uncomfortable simply for your entertainment, be a decent human being.

Nick’s prophetic abilities only partially applied to dreams.

To be more specific, he couldn’t predict what his dreams would hold in store for him each night. At first, he figured that it was simply because he was the only living person who existed in his dreams, and Nick knew he couldn’t predict his own future.

But that theory was completely thrown out the window when he realized that he couldn’t see the dreams in other people’s futures either.

Even before Clay made the big discovery of his powers, Nick wondered if his friend’s ability to work with dreams in the way that he could have anything to do with his lack thereof. It was a stretch, but he’d certainly heard of people using their powers together to achieve something bigger.

It had remained a mystery for quite some time. That was until Clay got a little bit too curious for his own good and decided that it would be a good idea to mess with his friend while he was dreaming.

Spoiler alert,  _ it was possibly the worst fucking idea he’d ever had. _

-

While Nick couldn’t predict the contents of his dreams, he would occasionally have prophetic visions during his dreams.

That night was one of those nights. Images of the people he’s met swirled around the spot inside his consciousness that he was standing. Images that depicted events that hadn’t yet happened. People living out the most important moments in their lives. Meeting their soulmates, getting married, meeting the people they’d consider their best friend for life.

Nick’s visions weren’t always happy. Sometimes they depicted great sadness or even death. He saw funerals. He saw people grieving the loss of their pets. Their parents. Their lovers.

It was draining, both emotionally and physically for Nick. He’d seen most of these visions before when initially looking into the minds of people, but still. Nobody liked the thought of the people they knew feeling sad. Or alone. But he hated those visions of death most of all.

He’d been staring at the memories for a while now. Nobody’s in particular, most likely some combination of random strangers off the street whose minds he must have accidentally read at some point or another.

“Nick?”

Nick froze, the familiar voice of his friend behind him throwing him off-guard.

“Clay?”

-

In hindsight, it was a stupid idea.

Clay had thought for a while now that he ought to start entering people’s dreams more often, as he desperately needed more magical experience. His teachers were insistent that he put more practice into his abilities, the only problem being that he didn’t very often spend time around sleeping people.

That is, except for Nick, who slept in the room right next to his.

And well, projecting into his best friend’s dream seemed convenient and logical, surely nothing could go wrong?

Famous last words.

It was past midnight, Clay sneaked ever so quietly into Nick’s bedroom. His friend is sound asleep, though he wouldn’t have been surprised if Nick was anticipating his visit, being a psychic and all. Oh, how wrong he’d been.

Entering Nick’s consciousness was a confusing jumbled mess. At first, there was nothing. He stood alone in an empty void that seemed to stretch out for miles before him. The air was crisp, causing goosebumps to form at the exposed skin on his arm.

He wandered. And he kept wandering until he realized that the void was no longer empty. Mixed up images and movies surrounded him, a messy, unorganized slideshow of different people’s memories. He didn’t recognize any of the people in them, he assumed that most of the memories Nick held were of random strangers he made contact with on a daily basis.

That’s when he realized he wasn’t alone. He spotted Nick, who was standing in the middle of a swirling vortex, inspecting the snippets of imagery that consumed his mind.

“Nick?”

“Clay?”

The moment Nick looked into Clay’s eyes, all of the screens inside the void went blank.

_ Oh. _

_ This can’t be anything good,  _ he thought to himself.

Then, they started up again, only this time displaying the future events of  _ Clay’s _ life.

The memories- they spun around him now. He could barely make any of them out, his mind racing and unable to keep up with all of the new information it kept trying to retain.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!” came from Nick.

Hearing his friend’s voice amongst all the turmoil grounded him somewhat. The pictures stopped spinning so rapidly, and he was able to make out his friend’s face amongst the chaos.

He called out to Nick, his voice hoarse. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d been breathing, both from the cold as well as the anxiety bubbling up inside of him. “What happened? Why am I-”

“You idiot, why would you project into  _ my _ dreams?!” His eyes- despite their warm umber tone- felt cold as they pierced his own. His voice was angry, though simultaneously felt scared. Nick never got scared.

Not to mention he rarely heard Nick use  _ that _ kind of tone outside of snide jokes and teasing. This wasn’t a joking matter, his friend looked nervous, furious, and upset.

“I just- I don’t know I thought that maybe I could practice-”

“Practice your magic somewhere else! You can’t be here Clay, you might be exposed to-”

_ Is that George? _

“-your own memories.”

It  _ was _ George. More specifically,  _ Clay _ and George. They were sitting in George’s room, speaking inaudibly.

_ I don’t remember this happening at all _ , he thought.

_ Oh. _

_ Right.  _

_ Fuck. _

“I don’t understand,” he stated, “If you can see the future, why couldn’t you see me coming into your dream?”

Nick glared at him still. “My powers. They don’t apply to dreams.”

“Well, yeah, because you can’t see your own-”

“Even with other people in my dreams, Clay. The truth is, I can’t see any of the dreams in your future. Or George’s. Or anyone’s, for that matter.”

“Oh.” It fell awfully silent. Both Clay and Nick wished that the other would say something, anything to kill the silence.

He turned his head back to the screen displaying him and George.

Clay wasn’t the best lip reader; however, he could make out the words “lucid,” “power,” and “nightmare”. George’s expression looked…  _ scared _ .

Had he-

“George finds out about our… you know. Abilities.”

_ Our abilities. Our powers. _

Clay whipped around. “Why are you telling me this? You promised not to tell me anything that happens to us in the future!”

Nick shrugged, a solemn look on his face. “You saw it yourself in that vision. He finds out, and there’s nothing we can do to prevent that.”

“Yeah but- I’m the one who tells him? Or does he find out beforehand? What if he already-”

“I won’t tell you any more than you already know,” Nick assured him. “Because you shouldn’t know any of this to begin with. But now that you know it’s going to happen inevitably, it’s up to you to decide how you deal with it.”

Clay only nodded in reply. He felt himself and Nick being transported from his mind back into reality, where he quickly made his way to his own room before Nick had the chance to wake up, hoping to avoid any more of whatever  _ that _ interaction had been.

_ Jesus Christ.  _

That was  _ not _ how Clay had been intending his little dream-visit to go.

For one, he learned that his powers were in a sense Nick’s _ biggest weakness.  _ Which felt weird, because he’d always viewed Nick as this all-powerful sorcerer with limitless power. 

He had never even considered the idea that his powers might have some sort of flaw to them.

But secondly, George knew about his powers. Or, he  _ will _ .  _ How _ was the part that he wasn’t certain about. All he knew was that he was terrified to know what the future brought.

Feeling embarrassed, exhausted, and overwhelmed, he crashed onto his bed, falling asleep in not even a minute. 

God. He was ready to forget that that whole experience had ever happened.

-

Morning came, and Clay felt arguably shittier than he had the night before.

For one, he hadn’t slept all that well. Waking up multiple times throughout the night only to worry about his and Nick’s previous interactions had left him feeling groggy and ill rested.

And two. There was still the whole situation with George he was going to have to deal with. 

While he knew he wouldn’t have to deal with it for quite a while, he still dreaded the thought of having to discuss the magical side of his life with his other best friend.

It’s not that he was opposed to the idea of being open about his personal life with George. No, that was far from it.

He remembered the look of fear on George’s face in Nick’s vision. He didn’t want George to feel scared, and he especially didn’t want George to feel scared of  _ him _ .

He wandered out into the common area, noticing that Nick was already up and making breakfast in the kitchen.

“Hi,” Clay greeted timidly.

“Hey.” The other man was too focused on trying to un-stick his eggs from the pan to really notice Clay’s presence.

“Do you need any help?”

“Yeah. Just help me fry up the bacon? It’s on the counter over there, and you can use the smaller pan up there.” He motioned towards the cupboard containing all of their cookware. 

He felt awkward as he shuffled past his friend, feeling as though his presence was disturbing his friend.

“Make sure you don’t overcook it like last time.”

“I know, you don’t need to remind me.”

“Actually, I do.” Clay looked up from the pan in confusion. “If I hadn’t reminded you, you would have burnt it.”

“How would you- right.” Clay felt his cheeks flush red. Their usual dynamic was off, normally they’d tease each other while cooking breakfast. Inside jokes and laughter would fill the kitchen with the smell of whatever breakfast they were making that morning. But today it was just silent.

And Clay hated it.

As though he were reading his thoughts, Nick spoke up.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay.”

The two stared at each other.

“Are you gonna start or am I?” Nick questioned, though Clay figured he already knew the answer.

“Um, you can go.”

“Okay. Uh, for starters. You invaded my privacy last night, entering my dream and all. What happened was messed up, and I’m sure has affected both of us.” Nick hesitated. “I was scared, freaked out because my dreams are the one part of my life that is totally unpredictable.”

“You don’t need to apologize for yelling at me, I fucked up and I deserved it,” Clay butted in.

“No, I’m apologizing. We  _ both _ fucked up, and we both have things to be sorry for. No person is more responsible than the other.”

_ No. It’s my fault, I’m the one that ultimately made this decision. _ “I forgive you. But I  _ am _ sorry, too. For barging into your dream, and for not realizing that you were… vulnerable. During all that.”  _ Was that the right thing to say? _

They finished making breakfast, and things fell slightly back to normal. They made occasional jokes with one another, though both of them knew that their vibe was off. Clay ate his eggs in silence. 

He knew that the walk to school was bound to be a hundred times worse.

-

While the walk to school didn’t take any longer than it usually did, it felt like literal hours before they arrived.

Thankfully, most of their classes were separate from each other.

That didn’t stop the day from feeling excruciatingly long.

Personal training time was the worst, Clay was obligated to tell Mrs. Reynolds about his experience last night (He’d cut out the details about George finding out about his magic, of course. He didn’t want his friend to get into any trouble because of him).

“I did it again last night.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Reynolds queried. “And how did it go?”

“Not great,” he admitted. “I projected into my roommate’s dream, he got pretty pissed off at me for doing so. Which I mean, rightfully so. But our dynamic just hasn’t been the same today.”

Mrs. Reynolds nodded as if she understood what Clay was talking about. “I don’t know who your roommate is- I assume they go to our school- but I’m sure that this is a resolvable problem. You two are close, no?”

Great. He was being therapized by one of if not his least favorite teacher in the entire school.  _ As if today couldn’t get any worse. _

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then time will heal whatever wounds you’ve caused each other. I’d suggest that in the future, you ask people’s permission beforehand before projecting into their dreams.”

“Well, yeah. I figured that one out myself.”

Mrs. Reynolds frowned. “I understand it’s difficult for you, you’re struggling in ways most of us couldn’t imagine. But I promise you, it gets be-”

The bell rang. 

Clay had never been so relieved to hear that sound.

“Sorry, Mrs. Reynolds, I gotta go!” He booked it out the door, not listening to Mrs. Reynolds’s cry of protest.

He dashed down the hall, looking for his and Nick’s normal meeting spot, but he wasn’t there. Which was unusual, because Nick’s last class of the day was much closer than Clay’s was. It was rare for him to show up late like this.

dreamwastaken

Hey, everything alright?

sapnap

I’m alright, the counselor just wanted to talk to me for a bit. I’m on the second-floor rn, be down in a minute

dreamwastaken

What did she want this time?

sapnap

She noticed I was acting anxious during class (still kinda freaked out about the whole dream experience) but it’s really not that big a deal.

dreamwastaken

Oh. I’m sorry.

sapnap

It’s alright, dude. I think I’m just in shock from being in a situation where I couldn’t entirely predict the future. I’m not mad, I promise.

dreamwastaken

Alright. But I am sorry.

sapnap

I know you are, and I already forgave you lol. Give me a minute, I’m almost there :)

A wave of relief washed over Clay. Nick wasn’t mad at him. His texts sounded normal, all tension from that morning must have disappeared over the course of the school day. Of course, he still felt guilty about the whole ordeal, but it was still relieving nonetheless.

Not even a minute passed when Nick arrived, a tired look on his face.

“You look like shit. Everything alright?”

Nick shrugged. “Who thought that school counselors were a good idea? All they do is tell you to get more sleep and remind you that your grades are shit.”

Clay snorted. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Come on, buddy. We’ll go home, and I’ll order us a pizza. We can waste away playing video games all night, and forget about all of our homework. You need a break, my guy.”

Nick grinned. “Sounds like my kind of night.”

-

Two hours and a large cheese pizza later, the two had fallen back into their usual rhythm. Playing Minecraft late into the night. It was eleven PM when Clay received a text from George.

georgenotfound

hey

dreamwastaken

Hey, what’s up?

georgenotfound

can’t sleep lol

nightmare things

dreamwastaken

Nick and I are staying up playing Minecraft, wanna join us?

georgenotfound:

well, you don’t have to ask me twice

also, can we call?

dreamwastaken

Of course :)

“George is gonna be joining us, he also wants to call.”

“Nice, nice. Should we start a new server with him, or just add him to our current one?”

“I’ll just add him to this one.”

Clay’s phone began to buzz. An incoming FaceTime from George.

He picked up immediately, though he kept his camera pointing towards the ceiling. There was something about being on camera that just made Clay uncomfortable.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Nick’s giving you the IP as we speak,” Clay informed. “You good with that?”

“Yeah, that’s good. I might only be able to stay awake for another hour or two, is that okay?”

“Of course, you need as much sleep as you can get. If you want, we can sleep on call.”

George’s face flushed a light pink. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Nick shot him an evil looking grin. 

Clay ignored him.

“Alright, I’m on.”

The night started out with them all playing a pretty basic game of survival Minecraft. Then, it evolved into more competitive games between the three.

_ How many diamonds could you obtain in a certain time period? _

_ How much gold could you smelt? _

Soon, nobody was collecting their own materials. It was no longer a game, it was a battle between the three. Rather than hunt for their own supplies, they figured it would be much more efficient to take what the others had already gained.

Clay was too good for them both. He killed both of them, collecting any supplies they’d collected prior.

“Sapnap, we need to do something here.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Dream had better watch out, it’s about to be a 2v1 up in here.”

Clay chuckled. “You can have your precious supplies back, but only if you catch me.”

All original goals were abandoned, as their game had turned into a full-blown manhunt. Clay was quick, but the hunters were quicker. They chased him for what felt like forever, though it was really only about 20 minutes.

Eventually, they managed to corner him inside a deep cavern, the two hunters surrounding him leaving only a pool of lava behind him

“It’s over, Dream,” George laughed.

“Give up,” Nick added.

Clay laughed. “Don’t be so sure about that.” taking something out of his inventory-

“Wait. wait- George, stop him! He’s got potions!”

It was too late. He drank the potion before hopping into the lava, cackling from behind the screen.

“You motherfucker,” Nick cursed.

The timer went off. Everyone had forgotten that it was a timed competition.

“Yes! I win!”

“Only because you cheated!”

“There were no rules against stealing!”

“It was implied!”

“Was it really? You guys tried stealing my stuff plenty of times!”

George was laughing too hard to contribute to their little argument.

Clay felt warm inside. He was with his two best friends, playing games just the way they had when they were younger. It felt nostalgic. 

He wanted the feeling to never go away.

-

Clay woke up a little while after five, feeling groggy from the lack of sleep from the night before.

His phone was right next to him, plugged into the wall. _ Why was it still on? _

Oh.  _ Right. _ He and George had slept on call.

George was still asleep. So he took his phone with him to the kitchen and began to make breakfast.

He was up before Nick, which was rare because normally he was the early riser, not Clay.

He had some extra time this morning. He decided to fry up some pancakes, knowing that they were one of Nick’s favorites (as well as his own). He’s gotten halfway through making the batter when a muffled voice seemingly came out of nowhere.

“How the hell do you wake up this early?”

It was George. Clay laughed, and responded, “five-thirty is  _ not _ that early. Besides, you get used to it. Nick and I have to get ready, cook breakfast, and walk to school all before 8 AM.”

“Right, I forgot you two lived by yourselves.” He paused before adding, “is it nice living alone? Without siblings or parents to bother you? Or is it lonely?”

_ Oh. _

“I’d say it’s a mix of both,” he responded. “I’m glad that I don’t have my parents constantly nagging me to do chores, I’m glad that I get to be in charge of what I eat or what I wear.

“But on the other hand, I miss the company. I miss not having to cook every night.” They both chuckled at that. “But I think most of all, I miss the chaos, living with all my siblings and my parents. Living in an apartment with nobody but Nick- it’s just so  _ silent _ .”

“It sounds isolating. I could never live completely alone.”

“Me neither,” Clay laughed. “I’m grateful that I have Nick, I really am.”

_ I just wish I didn’t have to keep the majority of my life a secret from everyone. _

_ Maybe then it wouldn’t feel so lonely. _

“Ooh, are you making pancakes?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?” Clay teased. 

“Pancakes? All we’ve got is frozen waffles in the freezer. You guys are lucky.”

He snorted. “Not if you’re the one doing all the work.”

“I can fry up some sausages if you’d like,” Nick suggested.

“Sounds great. Also, George is here. He just woke up.”

“I can hear that.”

“Oh, shush. You two are so annoying.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I should just hang up and focus on my pancakes.”

“Wait no-”

“Bye George!” Nick chimed in, and they both laughed as his cry of protest was abruptly cut off.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Clay grinned. “But I love him.”

“I know you do.”

-

The day went by in a blur. Nothing eventful occurred, aside from the fact that a shit ton of homework had been assigned that day. That along with all of the work he’s avoided the other night was piling up.

_ Eh. _

He could spare a couple of bad grades as it was, at least that’s what Clay told himself.

George would be working today, maybe he'd pay him a visit.

While Nick headed straight back to their apartment, he didn’t even stop to drop off his bags. Straight to the coffee lab. School had been cruel, he needed a bit of extra caffeine.

He got there knowing that George was most likely already working, given that his school got out almost an hour earlier than his own.

When he came in, he was surprised. It was five PM and the shop was relatively packed. Meaning George was most likely busy at the moment, helping attend to said customers.

_ No matter. _ There was an open seat at the front of the shop, right where George was working.

He knew that if he were to sit there, he’d only distract George from doing his job.

_ Which is just what Clay intended. _

“Hey there, Georgie,” Clay slid into the open seat.

“Clay, I’m working. What is it this time?”

Clay shrugged. “I was hoping we could hang out. You know, sometime after your shift is done?”

George laughed. “Dude. I don’t get done until eleven PM. Unless you wanna sit here watching me serve customers all evening long-”

“What’s that? I’ll pick you up at eleven? Sounds great! Your place or mine?”

“God, you’re insufferable.” George groans, but he’s laughing. He can’t help it, his friend is too chaotic and unpredictable for his own good. “But if you insist, my place sounds good.”

“Alright!” Clay hops out of his seat almost as quickly as he’d taken it. “One more thing- could you pour me a black coffee to go?”

“Um, okay? That’s $2.35.”

He whipped out a five-dollar bill with no hesitation. “Keep the change,” he said, not looking up as he passed the note to George.

“Are you su-”

Before George could manage another word, he was out the door.

-

He spent the majority of that evening wandering around the city, looking at different shops and places he might like to take George sometime when it wasn’t so late. It was surprising how quickly time passed, the combination of walking and listening to his favorite playlists made everything around him whir by in what seemed like only a moment. He made a stop at a local convenience store, where he bought a bag of chips for himself and a box of chocolate raisins for George (they tasted like literal shit, Clay had no idea why his friend liked them so much).

It was ten-thirty when he texted George again.

dreamwastaken

How’s your shift going?

georgenotfound

fucking kill me, that was the worst shift i’ve ever done.

dreamwastaken

Lol was it really that bad?

georgenotfound

no not really

but if u want u can come over rn, there’s no one here and i doubt anyone else is gonna show up before closing

it’s kinda lonely ngl

dreamwastaken

I’m omw

It was only then that Clay realized he’d walked farther from the cafe than he’d intended. Not terribly far, but it took him a good twenty or so minutes to walk back. By the time he made it, it was almost closing time.

“Shit, am I late?” He latched the shop door behind him, flipping the sign to show that they were closed.

“You’re right on time. I’m just putting away the stuff that needs to dry overnight, and we can get going.”

Clay hummed in reply. He remembered the snacks he’d stashed in his backpack.

“Oh yeah, I got you something while I was out.”

George flushed. “You know, you shouldn’t-”

“Catch,” Clay interrupted him mid-sentence, tossing him the box of chocolate raisins he’d purchased earlier.

“Clay! You don’t have to keep buying me these things,” he said, though already digging into the box.

“I still can’t understand how you can eat those things and enjoy them,” Clay cringed.

George gasped dramatically. “I’ll have you know that chocolate raisins are delicious, don’t ever insult me again!”

“I never said-”

“An insult to chocolate raisins is an insult to me.”

“You’re so weird. Come on, let’s get going back to your place.”

Stepping out from the shop, they were greeted by a cool autumn breeze. It was comfortably cool out, both of them having jackets on.

Clay hadn’t been paying much attention to George during their walk. He was more so focused on the sights of the city. But when he felt something brush up against his hand, he looked over to the shorter boy, who’d been staring at him until just then being caught. He turned red, looking away from Clay the moment they made eye contact.

And Clay didn’t know if it was the result of tiredness, impatience, or pure impulse, but at that moment he reached out to grab George’s hand.

George looked surprised but didn’t make any sort of verbal reply. Instead, he squeezed Clay’s hand, a silent indicator that he didn’t want him to let go.

Clay felt butterflies in his stomach the whole way back to George’s house. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, just… _ anticipatory. _

George’s family was already asleep. They never waited for him to get home, as it was often past midnight by the time he arrived. So the two made their way to George’s room, where Clay plopped down onto George’s bed.

“You know, if you really can't sleep from your anxiety or whatever, I’m sure that you could get prescribed with some anti-nightmare stuff.”

George shrugged, placing his bag and jacket down by the doorway. “I’m sure I could, but I really don’t want my family worrying about my… you know. Mental health issues.”

“Dude, you can’t sleep because of them. This kind of shit’s serious, and I know you know that too.”

His friend shuffled uncomfortably as he made his spot next to Clay. “Can we please not talk about this now? I want a distraction from my anxiety, not a reminder of it.”

He sighed. “Okay, okay, I get that.” He hesitated, before suggesting, “Do you wanna play a video game?”

George shook his head. “I was hoping we could just… talk? We really haven’t had all that much time to talk ever since we started high school.”

He couldn’t argue there. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He felt warm in the presence of the other boy. Though it didn’t last long, because a strange, cool sensation began to creep along his spine. What was it about this situation- this place- that felt so familiar?  _ Was this  _ _ déjà vu _ _? _

He shook off the feeling, almost certain that it was nothing.

“Was there anything specific you wanted to talk about?”

Clay hesitated, an unsure expression crossing over his face.

“I just- I mean. Catching up on stuff, you know? We haven’t had much alone time as of lately, I thought it’d be nice…”

George must’ve known that wasn’t the real reason he wanted to hang out. He didn’t plan this kind of stuff so impulsively when it was just a regular hangout. “Yeah? And what else? Surely that isn’t the only thing you wanted to talk about.”

George was pushing it. Since when had he gotten so bold?

Was he really going to do this? Ever since he’d seen Nick’s vision involving him, telling George about his powers was all he could think about.

The familiarity from earlier. Sitting on George’s bed the way that they were right then- it felt that way for a reason.

It hit him hard. Tonight was the night that George found out. Nick’s vision was coming true.

“Okay. so, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

-

George’s frightened reaction was to be expected.

Not to say that it didn’t hurt, because it most certainly did. He wasn’t sure if George would ever speak to him again, let alone reciprocate his feelings after this.

“I don’t understand. You can travel through other people’s dreams?”

He nodded. “I’m still training myself to keep control of my abilities in other’s dreams, but I’ve completely gotten used to manipulating my own.”

“Like-” He swallowed. “What do you mean when you say ‘keeping control’?”

“I can only wake up from the dream when the other person wakes up. If I’m already a part of someone else’s dream, I have no choice but to take my own place.” He didn't know whether he should bring up the fact that he’d projected into one of George’s nightmares before.

The silence was deafening.

“...I know it’s a lot to take in. But you have to promise me, George, you cannot tell anyone about this.”

“Hold on, what? Why not?”

“Humans aren’t supposed to know about magic. It’s forbidden. If people found out that you knew about us, they’d wipe your memories clean. You wouldn’t remember me, or Nick, or-”

“Nick has powers too?”

_ Fuck.  _

He hadn’t meant to get this deep into it with George, but here he was. There really was no turning back, so everything came spilling out.

“Yes. Nick has psychic abilities, meaning he can see people’s future just by looking at them.”

“So does he know my future? Does he know your future?” He paused, and then, “do  _ you _ know your future?”

Clay shook his head. “He knows both of our futures, however, he promised he’d never tell anyone what their future held, no matter whether the outcome good or bad.”

“Oh. So does he, um, know that we’re having this conversation right now?”

Clay laughed. Not because it was funny, but because he was _ so damn nervous _ . This whole  _ situation _ was crazy. He’s telling a  _ human _ that  _ magic _ exists.  _ That’s like, the one law you’re supposed to follow no matter what. _

“Yeah, he probably does. It’s weird, I know.”

George hummed in contemplation. Clay wasn’t sure if his hesitance was a good or a bad thing.  _ He seems calmer than he was when I initially told him, _ Clay thought to himself. _ I still don’t know how this is going to play out entirely. _

“If you’re so powerful, give me a demonstration.”

Well, that’s not exactly what he’d been expecting.

“Demonstration… of what?”

“Project into my dreams. I’m sorry, it’s just- it’s hard to believe that…”

No. No no no no no. He was not going to relive whatever it was that happened last time.

“No, George, listen.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve, uh, accidentally projected into one of your nightmares before. The one where I died and you were at my funeral with Nick. he blamed you for whatever happened. But-”

“How did you-”

“It’s my ability, I told you. But the thing is, the reason I don’t think projecting into your brain is a good idea is that during that last dream, I felt like I was actually dead. I was stuck inside this god awful coffin, I was freezing, uncomfortable, and I couldn’t move or speak.”

George was shocked. “Oh. I mean, I guess that makes sense. And you  _ did _ kind of perfectly summarize the dream I had that night.”

Clay nodded. Maybe things weren’t as bad as they seemed.

“...but I don’t really know how to process this information. I um. I think it might be best for us to stop seeing each other, at least for a while.”

_ Oh. _

His stomach dropped. There went that thought.

“Look, I promise I won’t tell anyone about the magic. And I don’t want us to stay apart forever, but... it’s a lot to take in, you know?”

Clay nodded, trying to hide the disappointment on his face. “Yeah, yeah I get that.” He faked a smile, though he could see by George’s worried expression that it was obviously forged. He then asked in a voice that was  _ maybe _ a little shaky, “How long do you think you’ll need?”

George shrugged. “No more than a month, I’m guessing. I’ll text you when I’m ready.”

A month wasn’t that long, though he knew it was going to feel like forever.

“I guess I’ll pack my stuff back up.”

And once he was ready to leave, in some mixture of frustration and impulsivity, he gave George a pained smile before blurting, “I love you, George.”

He left quickly, not leaving George enough time to respond.


	3. Dry Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, things aren't going according to plan for Clay.  
> At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: please for the love of god DON’T ship real people unless they’re explicitly stated that they’re okay with it. Don’t make your favorite content creators uncomfortable simply for your entertainment, be a decent human being.

He got home to find that he had three missed calls and about a million text messages from George.

georgenotfound

wait wdym

clay wait

you can’t just say “i love you” and leave

???

i’m calling you

answer pls

i know i said a break but this is important

you said you love me, what do you mean by that

_ (Missed call from georgenotfound) _

please?

i’m sorry if i upset you

_ What happened to “I wanna take a break”, or “I’ll text you when I’m ready?”  _ Because Clay saw the number of messages he had received from his friend, and there was no way in hell George had decided he was ready after a solid 30 minutes

_ Fuck.  _

It was too late to deal with any of…  _ whatever _ this was. Ignoring George’s messages, he threw his bag into the corner of his room, crashing onto his bed and falling deep asleep before he even got the chance to change into his pajamas.

-

Clay woke up the next morning to find that unfortunately, his problems  _ hadn’t _ disappeared overnight. George had sent a couple more texts whilst he’d been asleep, but for the past couple of hours, he’d been quiet.

_ Good.  _ He needed a break from George.

Thank god it was Saturday. He doubted that Nick had any plans made for the day, maybe they could go out somewhere fun. Take Clay’s mind off of the shitshow of a confession they’d both sort of made the night before.

“Nick? You up yet?” He called into the common room.

“Yeah, I’m here. I just made myself some cereal for breakfast, but we’ve got bread for making toast in the back cabinet.”

He’d known Nick for over a decade, and his ability to predict the exact choices Clay made still caught him off guard from time to time.

“Great, thanks. I was also wondering-”

“An outing? Fuck yeah. The zoo sounds great,” Nick grins. “I know you need some time away from both George and your phone. I get it, dude.”

_ At this point he’s practically a mind reader _ , Clay thought to himself.

“Would you suggest we leave here at noon?” It was half-past ten, which would give them a good hour and a half to get ready.

“Sounds good to me. But afterward, we really need to spend some time on-”

“Please don't say schoolwork-”

“Schoolwork,” Nick finished.

Clay groaned in disappointment. “You can’t make me. Maybe I already made plans to spend this evening wallowing in my own sadness.”

Nick scoffed. “As if I’d allow you to do that. I’m caught up on a lot more than you are, alright? I can spend some time helping you with your assignments if you’d like.”

Clay shrugged.  _ Well, it’s better than working alone. _ He begrudgingly agreed, thankful that they weren’t going to be working on it right that minute.

No. He needed his coffee first.

Generally, on weekends, he’d walk across the street to the coffee shop to buy his coffee. But he knew that there was a chance George could be working this morning, and he didn’t want to risk running into him.

Instead, he made his own coffee from home. It wasn’t nearly as good as it was storebought, but caffeine was caffeine.

He changed out of his previous day’s clothes and into something fresh, a baggy grey sweatshirt and blue ripped jeans.

By the time he finished cleaning himself up and changing into his fresh clothes, the caffeine had begun to take its full effect, offering his tired limbs an extra boost of energy to push him through the morning. He still had about an hour to go until it was time for him and Nick to leave, there really wasn’t much to do in the meantime. He passed the time just idly scrolling through social media, ignoring any messages from George that popped up. 

He knew that George could see his online status. Part of him debated blocking him temporarily.  _ No, _ he’d just have to ignore him for now. Besides, in a little while, he’d be going out to the zoo with his best friend, temporarily leaving behind any worries he may have held connected to George’s situation.

Clay didn’t actually care for the zoo itself, he cared more for the fact this outing was him getting away from his normal life. It was a distraction, really.

And okay, he did enjoy spending time out with Nick.

George’s DM’s and unread texts were flooding his notification screen. He knew that he should respond, while he was mildly pissed at the situation, he still cared about his friend.

dreamwastaken

I’m okay. Please just leave me alone until you’re ready to  _ really _ talk again.

georgenotfound

i know, i’m sorry for freaking out yesterday. i’m still trying to process the whole thing, but i do feel bad for shutting you out like that

dreamwastaken

I know you do, and I’m not mad at you for responding the way that you did.

I’m frustrated because  _ I love you,  _ and I hate getting these mixed signals from you. You want to talk but you can’t, so please just make this easier on both of us, and let’s leave it be for now.

georgenotfound

i get what you mean

i really do want to see you soon though, i promise i won’t make this break too long

dreamwastaken

That’s not what I meant

I want to see you too but that’s not what you need right now

Take as long a break as you need. You’re dealing with nightmares, not to mention some really severe anxiety, and now you’re being overwhelmed with this new information.

Once you’ve processed all of the shit happening right now, we can have a fresh start.

I don’t wanna start too soon and overwhelm you if that makes sense. When I see you again, I want us to both be in a good place mentally

Love yourself before loving anybody else.

georgenotfound

okay, i get what you’re saying

but i have one more question

dreamwastaken

Go for it.

georgenotfound

yesterday when you said you loved me

what did you mean by that

dreamwastaken

Wdym?

georgenotfound

i think you know exactly what i mean

Clay’s heart hurt. 

dreamwastaken

Okay. So last night when you told me you needed a break, I was a little bit impulsive.

I revealed possibly the biggest and most secretive part of my life with you, and at that point I just felt so angry and reckless I figured I might as well tell you everything

I was relieved getting all that shit off my shoulders, even if your reaction wasn’t ideal

I think that’s why I felt the need to tell you

So yeah. I have feelings for you. I’m sorry my dumbass had to tell you at such a weird fucking time.

georgenotfound

no no no don’t apologize

i feel the same way

i really, really like you, clay

i just need time to process

dreamwastaken

Of course

Please don’t rush yourself. I care about you so much, and if waiting means we’ll both be happier in the long run then I’m more than willing.

georgenotfound

thank you clay

i love you

dreamwastaken

I love you too.

By the time he’d finished with all of…  _ that _ , both he and Nick were ready to go. He  _ desperately _ needed a distraction from everything going on.

George liked him, and he liked George back. That was a fact, and Clay wasn’t particularly worried about how that would play out over time. No, Clay was worried that rushing into things too quickly wouldn’t end well for George. Clay loved the idea of seeing George as soon as possible, spoiling him with kisses, and telling him verbally  _ just how much he loved him. _ It sounded perfect, but the danger of George’s anxiety spiraling out of control had Clay worried. He wasn’t going to put his desires over his friend’s mental health.

So instead, he waited.

-

Time passed. 

It had been at least three months since Clay had come clean about his powers, and he still had no contact with George. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he would ever again.

But that was okay. George’s health mattered more to him than the possibility of the two ending up together. He knew there was a possibility George may never speak to him again. And yeah, it hurt to think about. But he had Nick, who was probably the greatest friend/emotional support he could ask for.

He had his school, which was full of surprisingly supportive people and teachers. Mrs. Reynolds was even trying to teach him how to lucid dream in someone  _ else’s _ dreams. Clay thought he’d never see the day that her teachings became useful.

They still attended the coffee shop regularly, the only difference being that the two of them pretended that they didn’t know George at all.

And George did the same back at them.

At home, things remained the same as well. Clay and Nick worked on their homework together, played video games on the nights that they had extra free time. Clay had expected to feel sad, knowing George and him might never be considered friends again.

But no. He felt good. While he missed his friend’s presence from time to time, he reminded himself that right now, George’s needs were to be prioritized. Not his own.

It was as time passed that he grew acquainted with the ball that life had thrown at him.

He was surprised at how little it hurt.

-

It got dark earlier and earlier. Despite only being a little past five o’clock, it was already pitch black outside. Clay had expected the night to be peaceful and productive, a time to get things done when his phone buzzed.

georgenotfound

meet me in the shop after my shift?

Clay swallowed. He didn’t know who- or what- he’d expected when he first picked up his phone, but it certainly hadn’t been  _ that _ .

George had texted him.

Wanting to meet up with him.

After work.

Possibly to reconnect.

After three months of waiting, this was it. The text he’d waited so long to hear from.

Clay’s heart fluttered. As much as he’d attempted to convince himself he was completely fulfilled without George’s company in the past several months, he still missed his friend desperately. Sure, he’d proven that he could live his life without him in it. But that didn’t mean his life wasn’t a thousand times better when he  _ was _ in it.

His feelings for him hadn’t died down, either.

dreamwastaken

11 as usual?

georgenotfound

yep, though most people stop showing at around 10. i’d say anytime between those two hours is safe game.

dreamwastaken

Sounds good :)

Clay felt like screaming.

Holy shit.

Holy  _ shit _ .

_ “Holy shit!” _

“What happened?”

_ Whoops.  _ He hadn’t meant to shout.

He’d forgotten that he’d left his door open, and Nick’s room was right across the hall from his.

“George texted me. He wanted me to meet him at the coffee shop at ten.”

“You think he still feels the same way that you do?”

“I mean, I’m hoping so, but I’m not gonna bring it up unless he asks me first.”

“That’s probably a smart way to go about it. I’m rooting for you.”

“You already know how things are gonna play out,” Clay teased.

“Shush.”

-

Ten o’clock seemed to come so slow, but once it arrived, things felt as though they were moving far too quickly.

He arrived at the coffee lab only a couple of minutes after ten, to which he was greeted by an empty shop. George was the only employee still working this late.

“Hey,” is all Clay could manage. Any other words remained stuck at the back of his throat.

George hadn’t heard the door open, so he was surprised to hear the other man’s voice come from behind him.

“Clay, I-”

“It’s… good to see you.”

George didn’t utter another word. Instead, he abandoned all work he’d been doing behind the counter and threw himself at at the taller boy in a hug.

Clay toppled backward with a yelp of surprise, though his shock quickly dissolved into both contentment and relief.

“Fuck, dude, I missed you.” George’s breath was warm against his neck.  _ God, _ how he missed their physical intimacy. Clay melted into his friend’s warm embrace. It was comforting, familiar.

He felt like he was going to cry.

“I missed you too.” He paused, savoring the moment for as long as he could before letting go and asking, “Are you feeling any better than you were… back then?”

George nodded. “I’ll tell you about it, but let’s sit down first. I’m sure we’ve both got a lot to catch up on”

They each took a seat at the front of the counter, but not before Clay rushed to the door so that he could turn the open sign around to show that they were closed.

You know, just in case.

“So, I told my parents about the nightmares. About how they’ve been keeping me up at night. They were really understanding about the whole thing, and made me see a therapist.”

_ Oh, god.  _ “Was it a good therapist or a bad therapist?”

“The first one was pretty shit,” George informed regretfully. “She thought that the nightmares were the result of child neglect or some shit, which just wasn’t right. 

“But my new therapist, she’s awesome. She’s helped me deal with the anxiety and nightmares in more ways than I could have imagined. I’m on some of those take-as-needed meds for my anxiety, and they work awesomely.”

“That’s amazing,” he grinned. “I’m proud of you. I really am.”

“Yeah, well. I wouldn’t have gone if you hadn’t encouraged me. If anything, I have you to thank.”

Clay shook his head. “You can’t possibly give me credit for all of that. You were willing to go to therapy, you were open to learning coping abilities, and you applied them to your life without having anyone tell you to do so.” George flushed. “You need to start giving yourself more credit.”

“That’s what we’re currently working on, actually.”

“Oh!” They both snickered.

After the laughter died down, George asked, “Do you want me to make you something to drink?”

Clay shrugged. “Maybe just a hot chocolate? I don’t want anything caffeinated this late.”

“Don’t you normally stay up until four AM studying either way?”

He cracked a grin. “Usually, but Nick and my school got given the next half a week off.”

“Oh really? For what?”

“Just catchup week, but Nick and I are already fairly well off, which basically means we’ve got the next three days to ourselves. AKA sleeping in.”

“Damn, you guys are lucky.” He got up behind the counter and got to work on their drinks. From the looks of it, George had liked Clay’s idea of a hot chocolate and was making one for himself as well.

And damn, he knew that the shop George worked at was kind of fancy. But the hot chocolates he’d just made- were those on the menu? They had to be, there’s no way George could make something like that up out of thin air.

“Those look really good,” he commented.

“Yeah? I like adding peppermint to mine, they add it every year around December.”

“I’m good without, but damn. Those are  _ fancy _ .”

“It’s on the house,” George hands him his cup. They were both served in these great white mugs that were filled to the brim with hot chocolate, topped off with a great wad of whipped cream and drizzled chocolate syrup. George’s was sprinkled with candy cane crumbs and had half a cane itself sticking out from within the whipped cream.

Clay didn’t have the biggest sweet tooth out there, but god, he’d be lying if he said the sight and smell of the hot chocolates weren’t making his mouth water.

“Fuck, those smell amazing.”

“Just be careful, it’s hot.”

It was hard to blow on the steaming chocolate when it was completely covered by a massive mound of whipped cream.

“I usually just mix mine in with the chocolate, it cools it down just a little,” George read his mind.

Well, it was better than nothing.

It was still absolutely scalding, but in the end, the taste of rich milk chocolate made it worth a burnt tongue.

“Did you just drink it all at once?”

“Yeah.” Clay’s voice was hoarse, his throat ragged from drinking too fast.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am aware.”

Clay knew he was staring. He’d always been taught that staring at someone was rude, but right now he didn’t care. He wanted to look at George. Despite the obvious exhaustion that rested on his face, his eyes creased and glistened with contentment. 

If he noticed Clay’s staring, though he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he asked,

“Do you wanna spend the night? It’s almost closing time, and I don’t wanna be here any longer than necessary.”

“You sure your parents are cool with me staying over?”

He laughed. “Absolutely not, but it’s late enough for them to be asleep. As long as you leave early tomorrow morning, and we don’t cause a racket, you should be fine.”

_ Cause a racket? Doing what exactly? _

“Another night with little to no sleep? Gee, maybe I  _ should’ve _ gotten something caffeinated.”

George chuckled at that. “It’s that or heading home now. What’s it gonna be?”

He pretended to be deep in thought before replying, “I’d sacrifice a night’s sleep to spend time with you.”

“Alright, let me finish cleaning up shop and we’ll walk back, alright?”

The place already looked relatively organized as it was. Clay assumed that he must have already tidied up most of the day’s clutter.

It didn’t take him long. George grabbed his jacket and joined Clay momentarily, who was already waiting at the front door.

“You all ready to go?”

“Yeah. And you’re sure your parents won’t be up?”

George rolled his eyes. “We’ve done this before. And I told you, they go to sleep weirdly early. Come on,” George took Clay’s hand in his own. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Clay was stalling, he knew it. Fuck, why did everything have to be so complicated when it related to George?  _ And why did George’s hand feel so fucking good in his own? _

“I guess I’m not so much worried about your parents finding us, I’m more worried about how you’ll handle the whole…” Clay tapped at his head with his free hand. “Magic thing. The whole dreaming situation?”

He shrugged in response. “It sounded scary at first. But now that I’ve thought about it, it really doesn’t freak me out as much as it did initially. If anything, it sounds kind of  _ cool _ .”

Clay couldn’t suppress the grin on his face if he tried. “Really? I thought you’d be, like, really stern about it.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me sleeping over anymore. Like, out of fear that I might project into one of your dreams?”

“Well, you’ve done it once before.”

“In all fairness, I was dead and couldn’t really do anything if I wanted to.”

“Okay, fair point. But I trust you, I know you’d never do anything to harm me. Yeah, you might be some weird half-human species who can do magic, but you’re also my best friend. I care about you, with or without magic.”

Clay squeezed George’s hand in thanks. He could see the light flush of color rise onto his face.

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

-

It was freezing outside, but George wasn’t cold in the slightest.

It certainly wasn’t the first time that the two had held hands. But there was something different about it this time around. He could feel the heat in his cheeks, the warmth of his best friend’s hand in his own. The air around them buzzed with electricity, the silent yet deafening sensation of yearning.

Maybe the difference was just formed from the fact that they were happy to finally be reunited with one another. Or maybe it was because the last time they held hands, they didn’t know for certain whether the other liked them back. Whatever it was, the sensation of butterflies in George’s stomach was powerful, too powerful. It was slightly unpleasant, but at the same time addicting. Clay’s giggles, his teasing, his flirtatious jokes. They became associated with that feeling.

And sure, he supposed there was a chance that Clay’s feelings could have faded over their break, but after all of _ this?  _

George made sure that no one in the house was still up before letting Clay in. They were quiet about making their way to George’s room, afraid that their footsteps might be recognized as those of two people’s.

The coast was clear. When George was sure the door was locked, the realization of what that implied hit him hard.

It was late at night, and George had just snuck a boy home with him- a boy that he  _ liked- _ and  _ locked them in his room together _ . Oh, the implications.

“Okay, so I might not have thought this through all the way,” he confessed. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Clay burst out laughing. Relief washed over him when he heard the words, “Me neither! Shit, dude. A couple of hours ago I was studying for a history exam. I didn’t expect to end up locked in my crush’s room at half-past midnight doing god knows what.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he saw the flash of panic come over Clay’s face. He went beet red, hiding half of his face in his hands as he cringed at the last part of his sentence.

George let out a nervous  _ “heh,” _ before adding, “Yeah, well. It’s not every day that I sneak cute boys into my room in hopes that they might  _ initiate something after months of not seeing him. _ ”

“Oddly specific, but I believe you.”

George shut his eyes and giggled to himself.  _ They were disasters. _

“Hey, George.”

A warm hand was cupped against his cheek. His eyes opened and all he could see was Clay.

_ Clay. _

_ Oh. _

Clay’s sunkissed skin with freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

Oh?

His silvery-emerald eyes, which sparkled under the moonlight with patience and longing.

_ Ohhh. _

_ Fuck. _

He was waiting for George’s permission. He didn’t hesitate to lean in, capturing his friend’s lips in his own. George’s heart pounded hard, his skin felt like it was on fire. 

The exchange only lasted for half a second, but when Clay kissed him back? Dear  _ god _ did it feel right.

“Is that an acceptable suggestion for an activity?”

This man was going to be the death of him.

“I’d say so. Do-” Clay motioned to the center of George’s bed. “Do you want to move up here? You can sit on my lap if you’d like.”

Holy shit.

Was this actually happening?

Was this real life? Or was George dreaming? If he was, he never wanted to wake up. 

“Okay,” he choked out in a small voice.

He climbed onto the bed and into Clay’s lap, wrapping his legs around the taller man’s body.

“Your skin’s like, burning,” Clay teased. “What, are you  _ desperate _ to finally touch me like-”

_ Not another word.  _ He couldn’t suppress his smile as he captured Clay’s lips in another kiss, only this one was a lot longer, a lot sweeter.

Clay’s lips were soft- maybe slightly chapped- but  _ warm _ against his own. Kissing Clay was everything that he’d imagined it would be like, but a hundred times better. The kisses- they started off slow. They were emotional, pleasurable, exhilarating. 

And god, did everything about them feel  _ right _ . 

Feeling maybe a little bit desperate, he ran his hand through Clay’s dirty blond hair, tugging at it slightly which coaxed Clay to open his mouth, gaping slightly in surprise.

George was impatient, he took that as an opportunity to dip his tongue in and deepen the kiss. He explored Clay’s mouth with his tongue, though he was still not entirely sure what he was doing. He’d only ever made out a couple of times before,  _ none of which felt nearly as good as this did. _

Judging by Clay’s breathy panting from below him, he assumed he was doing an alright job. He felt Clay grab fistfuls of his hoodie, as though he were trying to pull him even closer than he already was. Not wanting George to have all the control in this situation, he went ahead and nibbled at his lower lip.

George fucking  _ moaned _ at that.

He could tell by the assured hum he let go of that Clay wanted to hear that sound again.

Clay pulled away for a moment, an overconfident smirk on his lips. “You like that?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to make me.”

George didn’t waste another second. Their lips smashed back together, shameless of how desperately they kissed one another. George had been starved of Clay’s kisses all his life, and now that Clay sat beneath him all he could do was kiss. Hungry kisses were all he could think of them as. Something told him that his friend had a relatively similar thought process judging by his matched eagerness to reciprocate those actions.

George felt dizzy from kissing Clay. Not that he was complaining, because it felt  _ perfect _ . 

_ Fuck _ , he could feel Clay  _ smiling _ through their kisses. He was lightheaded and overwhelmed with bliss.

“Mmh, fuck.” Clay pulled away from him, his expression dazed but content. “Do you mind if I try something else?”

Not entirely sure what he was getting himself into, George nodded in agreement.

Clay resumed the light kisses, however, began slowly trailing them away from his mouth and down his jaw, down his neck…

_ Ohhh _ , he knew where this was going, and he most  _ certainly _ wasn’t complaining.

Clay kissed around the base of his collarbone, looking for a sensitive spot to go for. George’s breathing hitched as he tugged down the boy’s shirt collar. He was about to give up and move lower when a soft groan from George signified he’d found what he was looking for.

He kissed the spot some more, earning him a couple more breathy moans from George.

When he began to nibble and suck and the spot, George’s whimpering grew louder, his head empty with nothing but the thought of  _ Clay. _

_ Fuck, Clay made him feel good. _

“Clay, fuuuck,” he drew out the last syllables, his mind too far gone to form a proper sentence.

“Tell me if it’s ever too much.”

“No, no, please, keep going. Oh my god. Oh my god, Clay. Feels so good. Please.”

That was all the prompting Clay needed. He continued leaving love-bites and hickeys all along George’s neck and chest. 

“Fuck. Clay, fuck fuck fuck.”

A hand covered his mouth. “Don’t want to get caught, now do we?” George realized he had been a little bit louder than he’d meant to be. He nodded into his palm. 

Clay ran his fingers through George’s hair, occasionally pulling on it as he finished marking him up. He gave George a second to breathe before reconnecting their lips briefly. Those last few kisses- they were slow. soft, warm, and  _ much _ more relaxed than the ones from earlier. George swore that kissing Clay felt like breathing.

Natural. Easy.  _ If only they could have done this sooner. _

“That was-” Clay looked at George through blurred vision. He was so,  _ so _ tired. Tired and absolutely thrilled.

“Fucking incredible,” George finished his sentence, still completely out of breath.

“Are you okay? Your breathing’s acting up a bit.”

He nodded. “I’ll be alright. Just need a sec.”

When he caught his breath, he realized with stone-cold regret.

“Oh no. My parents are gonna see all the hickeys.”

-

About half an hour and a bit of stolen makeup from George’s mom later, Clay was demonstrating how he should cover up the bruises and bite marks that he had left (there might have also been a bit of blood, which George was ashamed to admit he’d found  _ hot _ ). As they worked, they talked.

“So if we sleep together, and I have a dream, do you automatically become a part of it?”

He shook his head. “It’s less automatic. I have to focus and think about my intentions before actually projecting. It’s rare that I accidentally project like I did last time.”

George nodded. “Another question is- how much freedom do you have in shared dreams? What do you have control over?”

“Pretty much everything. Unless I’m somehow trapped- like that one dream a while back- I can control everything and anything so long as neither of us wakes up.”

“So, theoretically, you could make me taller than you?”

“Don’t think I can change real people’s appearances, sorry.”

“Damn. But could we like, theoretically make out in our dreams?”

_ Well. _

_ He certainly hadn’t been expecting  _ that _ for a question. _

“Didn’t realize you were that desperate again already,” he teased.

George scoffed. “Well, hey. If we did this in our dreams then maybe we wouldn’t be having to use up all this makeup! My mom’s gonna notice it’s missing.”

“Okay, okay, you have a point. But to answer your question, technically we could. You might need to get used to lucid dreaming first, though. It’s difficult to hold a dream when you’re only partially in control of it.”

George shrugged. “I mean, it makes sense.”

They sat in comfortable silence when a notification from Clay’s phone caused it to light up, announcing the time in large white numbers.

It was past five o’clock.

His eyes widened in panic. “Holy shit dude, I gotta go!”

George cackled. “Okay, but promise me you’ll teach me the next time we hang out!”

“Of course. Now if you’ll excuse me,  _ I _ need to make a run for it.” He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Nick and I will see you at the coffee shop tomorrow, alright?”

George nodded. Clay gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before making a dash for the door.

“Wait!”

Clay whipped around.  _ Any minute now, his parents could wake up- _

“Are- are we boyfriends now? I just wanted to make sure-”

“George. Do you think I would've just made out with you on your bed if I didn’t want to be your boyfriend?”

_ Oh. _

“Okay, maybe not. But I’m just making sure.”

_ You worry too much.  _ “Of course. Love you, Georgie.”

“I love you too, Clay.”

He crashed onto his bed, a feeling of exhaustion and bliss overcoming his mind, his thoughts hazy and disoriented.

He was going to be  _ so _ fucking tired tomorrow.

_ Worth it, _ he thought to himself before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the final chapter :D hope y'all liked it, I've never wrote a fic that was more than one chapter before lmao. Hope this wasn't too fast paced or anything, I felt like I was rushing a little bit at the end, but oh well lmao.  
> -Samuel


	4. Excuse (Bonus Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick is a psychic and his best friend is an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finished this story a couple of months back, but after re-reading it a couple of days ago I decided to revisit it. Not only did I clean up some of the writing from the last three chapters, but I also wrote this little bonus piece that's of Sapnap's POV! It's just a couple of snippets I wrote about his childhood, so don't expect a full chapter here lol. This bit was mainly just for fun.

“This is Nick, he’s going to be in the same class as you next year. Isn’t that exciting?”

Nick shuffled about nervously as his mother introduced him to her friend’s son, an energetic, slightly older boy named Clay. His hair was a ruffled blond mess, his eyes glittered with curiosity.

“Hi! My mom said that both our families are magic, meaning we can practice together!” Nick looked up in surprise at his words. _Another magic family?_

The moment his eyes met Clay’s, a million different visions swarmed his mind, images and snippets of moments that he assumed were nothing but pieces of the boy’s future. The overwhelming wave of knowledge caused him to zone out for a couple of seconds, though he was quickly able to re-ground himself when he realized that Clay was waving a hand in his face.

“Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost,” he teased.

Nick shook his head. “I’m okay. I get overwhelmed meeting new people, that’s all.”

“He talks rather mature for his age,” Clay’s mother remarked.

“Well, yes. That’s because-”

He cut his own mother off. “I’m a psychic. Every time I look at someone, I see their whole life play out in my mind. I obtain all of the knowledge and memories that they’re yet to acquire throughout their lifetime. In a sense, I’m older than everyone I’ve ever met.”

Clay’s mom looked shocked. “Well, that’s... ” she turned to his own mother. “You didn’t mention his being a psychic. I’ve never met a sorcerer of that kind before, much less one his age!”

“I know it can be a little bit strange, hearing a six-year-old talk as though he’s a fully grown man.”

“You don’t say.”

“You can read the future?” He turned his attention back to Clay, whose eyes sparkled in astonishment. “That’s amazing! Can you tell me something about my future?”

Nick hesitated. He didn’t like telling people about their futures. It felt wrong, almost intrusive of him to do so.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I don’t like… _spoiling_ stuff like that. I wouldn’t want you to live your whole life knowing exactly how everything was gonna turn out.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” He stuck out his bottom lip in thought. “Well, if you can’t tell me anything important, tell me this. What am I gonna have for lunch today?”

“Peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” he answered almost automatically. “Or more specifically, strawberry jam and creamy peanut spread. Though cherry jam’s your favorite, you ran out of it two days ago.”

Clay’s jaw dropped “You are a psychic! That’s so cool! I haven’t figured out what my power is, but I wish it was as cool as yours!”

Nick smiled at him sadly.

_No, you really don’t._

-

“Niiick, I absolutely bombed this quiz.”

Lunch was Nick’s least favorite period. There were so many people in such a small space, too many people. Too many times he might accidentally make eye contact with someone and end up accidentally revealing their whole life story to himself. 

Clay plopped down across the table from him, almost spilling the carton of half-opened milk on his tray.

“I know.”

“How come you always get straight A’s on these types of tests?”

“Because I see the answers in my head before I even do the problem.”

“That’s so unfair.”

He shrugged. “The teachers that know about my powers are trying to see if there’s any sort of way they can test me on things without ever actually revealing the answer to me, which seems about impossible.”

“How would they do that?”

“I dunno. Test me, grade me, then never tell me what my grades are? Send me off to college without me knowing what my GPA is?”

“Is that _actually_ what ends up happening?”

“More or less.”

“Oh. But you’ll still be really good at it, right? What’s stopping you from reading the teacher’s mind as they grade you?”

“They’ll send it to a teacher I’ve never met to grade it, that way I won’t see them giving me the answers.”

“That sounds so complicated.”

“It is. And I fucking hate it.”

Clay’s eyes widened. “Nick! You said the F-word!”

“Oh. right. I forgot I’m not supposed to use that kind of language around you.”

Clay flopped his head onto the table dramatically. “You know, when I was little I thought your powers were so cool, now they just seem like they make you sad.”

“They do.”

“I’m still not sure what my powers are yet. It makes me feel sad sometimes, but at least I’m not a psychic like you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Wait, I didn’t mean for it to sound mean-”

“I’m just teasing, it’s okay.” Nick hushed when he realized the other boy’s voice had begun to sound panicked.

“I just meant that sometimes I forget that I have things good. And that they could be worse. I think that applies to both of us, not just me.”

“You think so? You think someone out there might have it worse than me?”

“There has to be! You’re one of the nicest, funniest people I know! You might be upset a lot of the time, but there’s gotta be _someone_ more miserable than you!”

Nick laughed at his friend’s “advice”. _Was it advice?_ Whatever it was, it made him feel better. Somehow.

-

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, you do. If you like him so much, just ask him to go to the dance with you. It’s not that hard.”

“But this is _George_ ,” he cried. “He’s my best friend. I don’t wanna ruin that. I’ve known him since we were what, five years old? He doesn’t know that I like boys! What if-”

“Clay. It’s the 7th-grade valentine’s day dance. Don’t overthink it. If you’re really that shy, you could always ask to just go as friends.”

Clay pouted. “But I want him to know how I feel. But at the same time, I don’t. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Why did I have to get stuck with a psychic as a best friend?”

Nick laughed. “You’re just unlucky that way.”

-

“I don’t think I have powers.”

“Yeah?”

Clay moaned in distress. “I’m fifteen years old, Nick. Fifteen! Everyone keeps calling me a late bloomer, but I’ve never met a sorcerer who found their powers any later than nine years old.”

He frowned at his friend’s words. There was so much he wished he could tell him. Seeing his friend upset and nervous like this was always hard on him, especially knowing there was something he could do to change that outcome.

“I highly doubt it. Your whole family’s magic, there’s no possible way that you could’ve been born fully human.”

“Yeah? You know something about my future that I don’t?” Clay’s voice choked up. Oh, shit. His eyes were red, too.

“Clay, I-”

“Please, Nick. Just _tell me_ if I do or not. I can’t fucking do this anymore. I can’t keep living like this, I need to know which world I belong to. I-” He gasped for breath, his body wracked with sobs. “-I can’t keep lying to people. Not to George, or anyone else.”

It hurt. Clay’s desperate pleads stung into his mind. Part of him wanted to oblige, to comfort his friend and tell him that everything would turn out fine.

But he was a man of his word, and he couldn’t bring himself to break the agreement he’d made to himself.

_Don’t ever spoil someone else’s future ever again._

“I can’t tell you whether you do or not,” he began with a shaky breath, “but-”

“Yes, you can. But you choose not to. I don’t care, Nick. I don’t care what shit you end up spoiling for me, I just want to know. I want to know what I need to do to make things right. In order to be happy.” His last sentence was barely audible.

“Knowing your future won’t make you happy, Clay. Once you know one thing, you’ll want to know another. Soon there’ll be nothing left, there’ll be no point to living because you’ve already obtained all your answers.”

They fell silent. From the weary, bittersweet expression on his face, Nick knew that Clay knew he was right.

“I guess- I don’t want to know my future. I just want to know that everything’s gonna be okay.”

It might have been against the rules. But he didn’t care.

“Well, that’s something I can promise you.”

“It is?”

Nick nodded. His head tilted, he gazed into his friend’s worried eyes, shining wet with tears. “You and me? Yeah, I’d say we’re going to be okay.”


End file.
